


wait for the dawn to arrive

by theprincessed



Series: The Sexual Adventures of a 21st Century Married Couple [3]
Category: Emmerdale RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Interlude, M/M, Medical Trauma, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Polyamory, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 03:38:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9105001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: When Ryan suffers an injury, relationships fracture unexpectedly.To make a full recovery, he needs both his wifeandhis boyfriend. Tired of being stuck in the middle, he sets about making sure that Daisy and Danny can come together again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! I'm on a posting roll it seems. So I'm back with another niche thing and it's something a little different. When I was struggling with the fun sex of all my other WIPs, I started thinking about what would happen to Ryan/Daisy/Danny if I stuck an angsty spanner in the works and this fic was born. I called it "uh-oh conflict interlude" before it had a title lol. Wasn't meant to be this long and talk-y but they all had a lot of feelings and banter, apparently. Also, the medical jargon is as close as I could get it as if it really happened. That research was fun!
> 
> Title from Take That's _Do It All For Love_ (no flies on me, is there? ;))
> 
> Hope the 0.1% of you enjoy x

Tuesday morning and Ryan is slowly coming awake to the feel of Danny's soft kisses on the back of his neck, tracing the freckles below his hairline and down towards the curve of his bare shoulder. He's lying on his stomach because it was the best option hours ago and yet it's still a herculean effort to twist his head on the pillow to face Danny. His expression scrunches up, stubbornly closed eyes crinkling, as Danny kisses his nose. It's a lovely thing when he and Danny can have some time off together. Although it's tricky to match it up with Daisy as well, they still managed last night just fine. 

“Don't get used to being woken up like this,” Danny warns now, but Ryan can hear the amusement and affection in his voice and smiles, feeling warm right down in his belly. “How're ya feeling?”

At the reminder, he hums a sleepy mumble and pushes his cheek into his pillow. “Like every muscle will scream at me the second I move from this bed and that my wife has left you to deal with me.”

A laugh comes from Danny's nose and Ryan squirms, ticklish, as he strokes down between his shoulderblades and circles his tender wrists with a light fingertip. “She can't help needing to go to work, grumpy.” Ryan feels the mattress jostle as Danny sits up and stretches, clearly ready to start their day. “Come on! You'll feel better once we get some food in ya,”

With a groan, Ryan rolls over and catches Danny's hand before he can fully leave, glad that Danny immediately turns to look at him. Making sure to look a persuasive mix of innocent and coquettish, he licks his dry lips and tugs on Danny's fingers. “Rather have you in me,”

“No, shu'rrup!” he grins, resisting Ryan's hold, “Stop that right now. You need a break. Drink this and then I'll make you the best fry up you've ever had this side of Leeds,”

He picks up a glass of water from the side of the bed he was sleeping on and thrusts it at Ryan's chest. Giving up flirting, he takes a sip and assesses Danny slowly. “You've been researching, haven't you.”

It's not a question, so he simply shrugs and Ryan follows when he tries for the second time to get him out of bed.

Despite the fact that they've done this countless times before, he still feels a little frisson of _something_ when they emerge the next morning, back to some sort of normality. He's still slightly bleary-eyed as Danny sweeps past him and the movement makes his gaze fall on one of the tall chairs sat around the kitchen island. He clears his throat awkwardly and darts in to snatch up Daisy's bra hanging off the seat. She must've been in a rush that morning to not notice it. He straightens up and shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants just as Danny turns back around from peering into a cupboard, the ease of which he moves around the kitchen and his and Daisy's home as a whole making happiness flutter in Ryan's stomach. Before he can put on his best poker face, Danny is moving towards him, palms gentle on his bare waist and mouth so suddenly temptingly close. Ryan closes his eyes, falling for the kiss and he feels the blush wash over his chest as Danny plucks Daisy's bra from his pocket with a flourish instead.

“Didn't think this was your style! _Although_ , with your pecs...” He puts the material up to Ryan's body, but takes pity on his embarrassment a second later and laughs, a bit kinder, “It's a little late for shyness now, mate.”

Dropping the matter anyway, Danny spins away to start on a late breakfast with a smack to his arse, something Ryan feels acutely because he's not wearing any underwear. He gingerly takes a seat for a little while, checking his phone and generally being good at waiting because he's waking up and Danny's busy. Eventually though, he tires of watching Danny chop things and leans across the island to steal something. His bare torso makes contact with the cold top and he shivers, retracting his fingers before Danny can nick him with the knife or slap his wrist, turning music on instead and letting it predictably rouse the dogs from the other room. 

They both come trotting in on tiny paws and head straight for Danny's feet, recognising he's the one with the food and making Ryan smile. Seeing his way in, he gets up to join them, coming up behind Danny and wrapping his arms around his waist to nuzzle his face into his neck, breathing in the fading smell of sleep and cologne. He knows he's being mischievous and distracting, but he can't help himself this morning. Feeling so close to his boy last night has got him clingy and affectionate and thankful. Danny lets him kiss round from his ear, across his jaw and to his mouth quickly, his hand resting in the space of Danny's t-shirt covered stomach and the edge of the island. Ryan's going in for another and their tongues are stroking together when Danny shifts slightly and a sudden flash of pain slices white-hot over the inside of Ryan's palm. He cries out in shock and stumbles backwards, the blood-stained knife in Danny's lax grip clattering to the floor. 

“Fuck! Ryan! I'm so sorry!” he exclaims, turning around to him bent double, clutching his hand. 

His automatic reaction is to reassure Danny that everything is fine, it's just a cut, but the knife had been big and sharp and blood is pouring from between his clasped fingers as he tries to stop the flow.

“Come on, over here,”

Danny tries to lead him over to the sink but he resists, vigorously shaking his head. “No, don't! Just...um...” Tommy and Lola have started barking, understandably confused by the commotion and Ryan blinks rapidly, suddenly feeling faint. He's distantly aware that the fingers of his injured hand are tingling and hears Danny make a surprised noise before he's shoved back into the nearest chair.

“Let me - let me have a look,” he says urgently then curses when he takes Ryan's shaking hand and can barely see a thing for the amount of blood that's pumping out and running down his wrist. Most worryingly, what he can see is the hefty chunk taken out of Ryan's palm, skin ripped and possible muscle torn. Hastily putting pressure back on it, he stretches towards the tea towel hung on the oven door and carefully wraps it around the injury. Even through the hazy fog covering Ryan's brain, he sees how wide and blue Danny's eyes are as he glances up at him and gasps. He feels the blood soak into the tea towel and Danny touch his quickly clammy cheek. “Shit, you've gone pale.” 

“I feel - ” he breathes shallowly, slumping against the island, “I feel weird. Oh god, this is bad,”

He doesn't really mean to say it out loud quite so bluntly and notices the guilt that immediately washes over Danny's face, but it hurts so much that he's struggling to think properly. “Alright,” Danny says, swallowing. “I'm calling an ambulance and _don't_ you dare argue with me.” Ryan tries to focus on taking deeper breaths as Danny stands in front of him, his phone pressed to his ear, talking to the call handler. With the ambulance on its way, he puts his phone down on the island because he's in his boxers and doesn't have pockets. “Right, upstairs. We need to get dressed.”

He lets Danny support him with an arm around his waist and his other clasped over the tea towel, raising his arm in the air. He's literally getting blood on his hands and the dogs are running at their heels when Ryan realises the other issue they have here.

“Danny, wait,” he says, blinking rapidly because his vision is still spotty and he feels weak. “What about them?”

He raises his eyebrow, looking down at the dogs. “ _What about them_?”

“We can't just leave them here on their own!” He sways and Danny clutches him tighter, a wave of nausea and throbbing pain briefly stealing his ability to speak. Eventually, he breathes in and tries again with a grimace. “Listen, there's a number for the last dog sitter we used over there,” he nods to the fridge, “just – just do it quickly, _shit_ ,”

He can tell Danny wants to protest, to say Ryan is more important right now, but he also knows how much a stubborn git he can be, so he leaves him propped up against the staircase and dashes back into the kitchen. Lola streaks after him, slightly oblivious because Ryan and Daisy have only had her for a couple of months, but Tommy doesn't follow, preferring to stick close by, moving restlessly from paw to paw. Ryan looks down at his big brown eyes and smiles shakily.

“I'm alright,” he says softly, mostly for himself, “'M'fine,”

Danny returns with the number and gathers Ryan into his side again. “Dressed. Now. I'll call her once I've made you decent.”

“Bossy,” he mumbles, trying to keep his mind off the fact that the previously blue gingham tea towel around his hand is now at least half darkened with red and that his fingers feel totally alien. 

Danny shoves his jeans and trainers on in double time and wrangles Ryan into a jumper, managing to carefully avoid hurting him but not so lucky in avoiding getting anymore blood on his clothes. There's patches of it all down his body and Ryan remembers too late that he's not wearing underwear, Danny already pushing him onto the bed and stripping him. He's dimly aware of Danny fondly shaking his head and shuffling over to the nearest dresser and, flat on the sheets, Ryan expects another intense pulse of pain from the different position, but panics even more when he gets the opposite.

“No,” he says in disbelief and sits bolt upright, the towel now completely drenched, “No – no, no! Danny – Danny, my hand's numb,”

There's a blink of horror on Danny's face before he returns to his side, “You're gonna be fine,” he says, manhandling him back into the sweatpants now he's got boxers on underneath.

By the time he had done that, Ryan's eyes are blurry from unshed tears and spotty vision. Suddenly, they hear a siren travelling up the street and he feels his breathing kick up instead of slow down in relief. Before long he's in overdrive and his hand is still drained of feeling, but the touch of Danny's own hands on both sides of his face is welcome.

“Hey,” he says sharply, cutting through his hyperventilating, “calm down, okay? Watch me.” He breathes in until his chest is full and that's when they hear a knock at the front door, followed by it opening and a shouting voice.

Two paramedics find them in Ryan and Daisy's bedroom, Danny kneeling in front of Ryan sat on the end of the bed, calmer but no less scared witless. 

He can't lose his hand.

\---

In hindsight, Danny was glad that he'd thought to call an ambulance as the drive to the hospital had been quick and effective. He'd sat to the side of Ryan propped up on a stretcher, an oxygen mask over his face and his arm held aloft by the paramedic treating him en route. Danny's leg had bounced restlessly the whole way there, even when he was sure that Ryan had almost smiled at him, the crinkles by his eyes deepening for a second. All he wanted to do was reach for his other hand until he looked down and remembered the dried blood, _Ryan's blood_ , and felt the whole swathe of guilt all over again. He knew it was an accident and a stupid one at that, but the man he cared about was hurt and he couldn't show it, so he felt even more helpless.

They'd pushed through the doors of the hospital together with one paramedic steering the stretcher and the other still gripping Ryan's arm, Danny hovering behind them as they speedily walked down the corridor. A doctor joined them at halfway and the two females spouted medical jargon nonsense as the doctor listened, only half of which Danny understood but all of it he could clearly hear too.

“This is Ryan Hawley, 31. He has a deep incision wound to the palm of his hand from an accident with a kitchen knife, approximately 15 minutes ago. Patient has complained of numbness in fingers, so possible tendon and/or nerve damage. GCS 15. Respirates are climbing at 25 from a suspected panic attack. Pulse 110, BP 120 over 95, sats at 96% and returning to normal. Significant blood loss, but no onset of cyanosis or gangrene and no other injuries to report.”

The paramedic in charge of pushing the stretcher handed paperwork to the doctor before moving on ahead. Danny stopped short in surprise as the doctor, a blonde man probably around Ryan's age with a stern expression, stood in front of him with a raised eyebrow. “And you are?”

“Oh – er - ” Danny wracked his brain for how to answer without sounding arrogant (“I'm off the telly,”) or giving away details of his private life (“I'm his boyfriend,”) and settled with an awkward cough. “I'm a...friend. I called the ambulance.”

“Well, I'm afraid you won't be allowed any further than this point whilst I examine your friend's condition. I suggest you head back to reception to give us as much detail as possible about Mr Hawley, so we can inform his next of kin.”

He had turned on his heel before Danny could respond and that's when his stomach had dropped in realisation of what he had actually said.

Now, he's waiting again, only this time he can't look over at Ryan to make sure he's alright, no one has told him anything beyond the mumbo-jumbo he overheard on their arrival and he springs up from the position of his elbows resting on his knees when the distant sound of high heels come, along with a familiar voice.

“Hi, I'm looking for my husband? I was told he was brought here? Ryan Hawley. H-A-W-L-E-Y,” she spells out for the typing receptionist, her coat draped over her arm and her handbag falling off her shoulder like she left work in an understandable hurry.

Not really wanting to but knowing he has to, Danny inches forward. “Dais?”

She turns, dark eyes frantic and he feels sick as her shoulders sag and she throws her arms around his neck. “Danny! What happened? Are you okay? Were you attacked?”

“What? No!” he frowns, before his moment of confusion gives way and he takes a step back. In his pause, he sees the receptionist over Daisy's shoulder pick up the phone and speak. He swallows, guessing he doesn't have much time and that being honest is for the best. “No – um – it's my fault.”

“I – I don't understand,” Daisy says haltingly, hitching her handbag back onto her shoulder and darting a look between him and the receptionist, who has returned to working quietly in front of them. Danny looks around for a more convenient place to explain and, sensing there is none when they don't particularly have access to a relatives' room, he leads her back to the row of semi-comfortable chairs he was sat on before she walked in. Just as he's about to take a seat, she rips her elbow from his grip. “Just tell me what's going on. Please?”

She's suspicious, but also terrified and Danny grimaces before he tells her. “I wanted to make breakfast this morning. Although it was more like lunch after what – what happened last night,” he mutters, Daisy's face betraying no acknowledgement except for a slow sweep of her black lashes in a fluttering blink. “It really knocked him out, so I thought food was the best option. So I'm making it and he's being, y'know, Ryan about everything, fuckin' adorable – the knife just – it slipped out of my hand. Dais, I'm sorry, I should've been more careful – I - ”

“Are you Mr Hawley's family?”

Danny looks past Daisy's suspicious, calculating gaze to see the doctor from earlier. As much as he's hopefully been helping Ryan, an irrational dislike for him springs up inside Danny not least because of his terrible timing.

Daisy's face leaves no trace of the surge of emotions that Danny had seen building as he'd confessed all and she faces the doctor. “I'm his wife.”

Danny watches the doctor smile a little, like finally someone worthy of his expertise has arrived. “I'm Dr Hough, A&E Consultant. I treated your husband on arrival.” His eyes flick to Danny then back to her. “Shall we go somewhere a little more...private?”

She nods and they both step to leave. Panic bursts from Danny, making him grab Daisy's wrist. “What am I supposed to do?” he hisses.

“Take your hand off me,” she spits back, her jaw clenched. Danny remembers all the times Ryan's done that as Robert onscreen and all the times he's done it since, especially when Danny does this thing with his tongue that sends him - 

“Please,” he implores, cutting his useless thoughts off mid-flow. “I'm his...friend, I brought him here. I'd like to know if he's alright.”

“Is everything - ” Dr Hough clearly notices the tension.

“Everything's fine,” Daisy says firmly as she stares at Danny, holding her own between the two men before she adds, without taking her eyes away from Danny. “Tell us how he is.”

“Well, he's in theatre right now.” Attuned to it as he is, Danny hears Daisy's breathing hitch. “My colleague in Orthapaedics will be along to speak to you once the operation is complete. Your husband sustained some damage to the flexor tendons in his hand, requiring the need for surgery under general anaesthetic. The good news is that his fingers are all intact, there's no infection at present and he has no other injuries. Seems to me, it was purely an accident.”

Danny blinks at Dr Hough, embarrassed for judging him so harshly even if it was only in his own head. With no other news for him to report, he leaves them be and Daisy finally sits down, dumping her handbag beside her. She tolerates Danny next to her so he puts his hand on her shoulder.

She shrugs him off. “Don't.” It's muffled, with her shaking hand pressed over her mouth, but Danny hears it like she'd shouted it at him. “Just don't.”

\---

_“I trusted you to look after him.”_

_“And I was. The doctor said it was an accident! Why won't you believe me? Dais, come on - ”_

_“ - Why were you so careless? You heard the surgeon, a couple of inches deeper and who knows - ”_

Coming to, Ryan finds his voice, a weak groan that sounds muffled and hollow as the sound bounces back from the mask over his mouth and nose. He remembers that from the ambulance and wonders whether he passed out on arrival. The frantic whispering has stopped and, when he opens his eyes slowly, someone grabs his hand. It feels strange and for a second he thinks it's because something bulky is in the way of them connecting properly before he gets his bearings and realises that Daisy is holding his _left_ hand. He turns his head, still feeling woozy, and blinks at her. Her mascara is slightly smudged underneath her dark eyes and her blouse is unusually untucked from her skirt, but she smiles at him fondly nonetheless.

“Darling. How are you feeling?” He groans again because he can't quite put it into words yet. “It's alright. You've had an operation on your hand. It went well, the surgeon said, all things considered.”

At the news that he didn't pass out in hospital, he was put under for an operation, Ryan lifts his injured hand. He can't see anything gory because hopefully it's been fixed and it's covered in heavy bandages encased in a sturdy splint. He can feel pain beginning to lick at the edges of his consciousness, something he's grateful for and would have any day rather than the soul-destroying numbness he had as Danny called for help but, in the midst of his curiosity, he realises that nobody is speaking anymore and he follows Daisy's unwavering gaze to his other side to see Danny, hovering uncertainly. When he sees Ryan looking though, he reaches for his hand, pauses then settles for gently squeezing his shoulder. “Hey, mate,” he says softly.

They seem to be in some sort of basic recovery room and Ryan's blood splattered clothes have been swapped out for a regulation hospital gown, with Daisy pulling the thin blanket on top of him over more of his chest, fussing unnecessarily in his view. “Well, you've seen him and my husband needs his rest now.” she announces before either of them can saying anything else, “Why don't you go home? He'll be fine with me.”

“Dais - “ Danny tries and Ryan sees a plea in his eyes, as if this isn't the first time today that she's shut him down.

“Go home, Danny.” she says. She's always spoken her mind and been more feisty than Ryan's laid back, shy temperament, but Ryan's never heard her be quite so cutting. She falters when she sees the shock on his face and the disappointment on Danny's and softens. “We'll call you if we need anything, promise.”

He accepts with a sigh and, still holding onto Ryan's shoulder, darts in to kiss his temple. “I'm so sorry,” he whispers.

Ryan watches him walk away with a ducked head and his hands in the pockets of his jacket, too overwhelmed to call him back and fight his corner. Still, he takes a deep lungful of oxygen and moves the mask to speak. “You didn't have to be so territorial. It's not like he's some random bloke. It's Danny.”

“Yes, but like I told him, you're my husband and I'm sorry but I want to take care of you. You've just got out of surgery, Ryan.”

“Things must be serious if you're using my name,” 

“I'll use your middle one too if you don't get some rest!”

“Ugh no, that should only be for weddings and disapproving mums.” He finally gets her to smile and strokes his thumb to her jaw, cupping her face. “I heard you y'know, you and Danny, when I was coming round. Arguing. Don't blame him, please, baby. It was an accident, that's all.”

“They said you lost a lot of blood.”

“Not enough to be life-threatening,”

Daisy holds his hand against her cheek. “Stop trying to reassure me. I was so scared, getting that call.”

Her whisper finally sounds as vulnerable as she looks and he brings her closer so that their foreheads touch. “Yeah, I get that. Just ease up on the guard dog act whilst I sleep, okay? Remember: Danny's yours too...”

“He nearly sliced your hand off. Apologies if I'm not feeling particularly forgiving.” she mumbles, but squeezes his good hand to show that she just needs time to work through her emotions.

Ryan kisses her forehead as they wait for him to be transferred to a ward for the night.

\---

After the second time of failing to tie the plastic bag over his forearm, Ryan untangles his fingers from the knot they're caught in and lets the bag flutter to the floor with a frustrated growl. He's not allowed to get his more flexible splint wet and has been trying to do more things for himself with only his left hand because he's still under strict orders from the physiotherapist and his wife not to even write with a pen using his right. He'd thought it ridiculously over the top at first until the lady's kind eyes and young face had transformed into stern seriousness and he was told that doing too much at any stage in his recovery could result in all manner of nasty things like “ruptures” and “permanent loss of movement”. The knife had cut some of the “flexor” tendons in his right hand that help bend all your fingers and thus are slightly more complicated to repair, slicing through the skin and muscle of his palm like paper and he'd even managed to nick an arm of a small artery he always forgets the name of, which accounted for the scary amount of blood on the day. He's stitched up and taking it as easy as he can stand it, signed off from work for the next month at least and going a little stir crazy. Every morning for the last three days, Daisy has wrapped his splint in plastic to protect it as he bumbles through an awkward shower now that he's finally feeling up to it since the first days of his recovery. The pain is intense enough that even he - as someone who brushes off illness until he's practically horizontal with it – has to take the medication on offer to manage it.

This morning, he'd awoken late through no sexy reason. Instead, he'd had a fitful night's sleep and tried to play catch up, eventually comfortable enough to drift off again around dawn. Now he's standing in his boxers, feeling a little lost, as he hears the doorbell go. His heart does a hopeful flip every time, wondering if it's Danny. It's a week since the accident and although Ryan has had plenty of contact with him through text, he hasn't come round and he misses him. He knows Daisy does too, but she's keep herself busy by looking after Ryan and being really stubborn. When she doesn't immediately announce Danny's presence with joy or even start shouting at him now they're in the privacy of their own home as opposed to a bustling hospital, Ryan creeps towards the doorway to their bedroom, his splint raised to his opposite shoulder as it apparently helps with swelling. Part of him wishes other things were in the mood for some swelling.

“Baby?” he calls, as everything seems too quiet now.

When he gets no answer, he thinks of his bathrobe hanging behind their bedroom door then shrugs. Even though he's starting to get cold from standing around in his pants, the struggle to cover himself isn't worth it when his aim is to get naked (and clean) anyway, so he makes his way downstairs as he is. He steps off the last part of the staircase, with the floorboards cool under bare feet, to see Daisy stood in the archway that leads to their dining room. There's a sizeable box beside her, so Ryan guesses the caller to the house was the postman.

“Oh.” he says, his thoughts filled with what could've been, with Danny, but glad to find that silent Daisy is alright. In fact, she looks to be smirking.

“Is that all you've got to say?” She glides towards him in socks, dark jeans and a glittery, copper t-shirt that's slightly scratchy against Ryan's naked torso when she throws her arms around his middle and nuzzles into his body. “Don't think I'll ever get used to you being sneaky like this,”

At a loss for what he's apparently meant to have done, he's too tired and the desire to have another shower is too strong, so he decides to be honest. “Baby, I have no idea what you're talking about. What's in the box?”

He feels Daisy freeze then look up, still holding him. “What?”

“Sorry, but whatever's in that box – I didn't send it. Although now I wish I had thought of it.”

She steps back and Ryan's outstretched good hand drops with an internal sigh. He thinks she's disappointed and he hates putting that look on her face when he really looks at her again. Her movements are jerky as she opens the flaps of the box. She'd obviously already got this far before Ryan had come down because the sellotaped middle is ripped and she scowls when peering into the box as if its personally offended her. She reaches in and lifts out a smaller, rectangle box, puts it down on the dining table then does the same to two more identical boxes. Light brown in colour, Ryan instantly recognises them and he moves behind her to rest his good hand on Daisy's shoulder as she stares at them, arms folded across her chest.

“So if you didn't - ”

He raises his eyebrow and squeezes her shoulder. “Don't give me that. There's only one other person who knows the true depth of your obsession and he bought you not one, but _three_ pairs of Louboutins,”

“And?”

“Does Danny look like the kind of guy to buy a woman shoes?”

“If it'll get him sex, maybe,” she sniffs, but Ryan sees her mouth twitch and her fingertips are already caressing the side of the top box.

“Open them.”

“No, darling - ”

“Come on,” he cajoles, nudging her elbow, “I know you're dying to know which ones he bought,”

Her hands are slowly prising the lid off and Ryan's leaning in in just as much anticipation as his wife when Daisy stops. “What if they're for you? They do men's shoes too.” With a shake of his head, Ryan quickly takes the lid off himself, puts the signature red dust bag on the polished table and pushes aside the white tissue paper. “Okay, fine, they're for me,” she adds, pulling out a shiny black high heeled shoe. There's a design in black crystals near the pointed toes and Daisy raises the pair to face her, the word 'SEX' spelt across the shoes.

“Subtle,” Ryan laughs.

“I told you!” she smiles despite herself, “And it's not gonna work.”

He watches her repackage them then place them carefully back into the bottom of the bigger box before she returns to him. He grabs her wrist and strokes his thumb against her pulse when she makes to put the remaining boxes in there as well, without even looking at them. She rolls her eyes and takes the lid off with the box still tucked against her body, flicking the tissue paper over the sides then standing the shoes side by side. The second pair are also shiny and black, but have a flat red design near the toes that spells out 'LOVE'.

“If the last pair say 'marriage' then...well,” Ryan chuckles, “I don't know what I'll do. I'll probably be impressed, if I'm honest.”

Daisy tuts, exchanges one box for the other and reaches in blindly for the last shoe. Her gaze widen fractionally as soon as her hands and her eyes take in the full experience. Danny's obviously been paying attention that black Louboutins are probably Daisy's favourite for the classic colour and different, timeless shapes but she doesn't own a pair of heels quite like these. With a thinner heel than the other two which seems deadly to Ryan, the simple black suede covering the whole shoe looks touchably soft and elegant but with an air of fun and sexiness. 

Ryan watches Daisy trace the famous red sole with her fingertip, “Try them on.”

“Darling, I'm mad at him, I can't - ”

“Please?” He pulls the other shoe from the box and stands it on the table. Daisy narrows her eyes at him and it makes him shiver. He remembers he's just in his underwear and decides to use it to his advantage. “It won't hurt to try them on, see if they feel as good as they look.”

“These jeans won't go,” she says reluctantly, eyeing the shoes.

“So take them off?” She gives him a pointed look. “What?” he raises his injured arm to his opposite shoulder, as if following medical advice will make him appear more innocent. “I'm in my pants here!”

“Yeah,” Daisy frowns, now that she's not distracted by shoes, “why _are_ you in just your boxers?”

“I wanted a shower, but I couldn't tie anything around this thing because you've been doing it for me,” he explains, with a shrug.

“Why didn't you say?!”

“This is more fun,” he grins. “Now put the shoes on...with or without the jeans.”

Daisy disappears into the living room for a moment and Ryan smiles when she comes back with one of the cosy throws from the sofa in her arms. She pushes him onto the nearest dining chair and drapes the cuddly blanket over his bare shoulders, instantly enveloping him in warmth. He nods to the third pair of shoes that are clearly very Daisy, very impractical weather-wise and obviously her favourite of the lot. It's as if Danny stopped trying so hard when he was thinking of what she'd like. 

Socks off, Daisy slips her feet into them with an ease as if they're slippers and grins. Even with the jeans that apparently don't “go” with Louboutins, Ryan thinks she looks great. In the middle of admiring them by twisting her foot this way and that, she glances up at him quietly sitting there, not an ounce of jealousy as she enjoys a present from Danny. Her eyes sparkle wickedly and Ryan licks his dry lips just as she prowls over to him and lifts her foot to rest on a space of the chair that sits between his spread legs. He flinches like a reflex because he's wearing next to nothing and her heel was dangerously close to his cock.

“They feel so good,” she says dreamily, elbow to her bent knee as she rests her chin on her hand.

“They – uh – look good too,” he murmurs, gently brushing his fingertips over the suede before holding her foot in place at her ankle. “I'd let you walk all over me any time.”

Daisy hums thoughtfully then stands back on two feet. “As tempting as that is, they're going back.”

Ryan blinks out of his haze, feeling like he was on the way to being seduced and now has nothing to show for it except an embarrassingly eager semi. His libido has returned then. “What? But – but you can't!”

“They're going back.” she says firmly then rubs at his chin, “And _you_ need to get your butt in the shower, darling.” Unexpectedly, she leans in towards his ear, her hand stroking down from his chest to cup him through his underwear. “Who knows, I might even help you with more than keeping that thing dry.”

\---

That evening, Ryan bides his time in days of recovery with his splint resting on a stack of cushions as he dozes laid out on their bed until his open laptop chirps with an incoming Skype call. Danny pops up looking cosy in a dimly lit room, wearing a hoodie and sat leaning into the screen. He always tells Ryan off for hunching his shoulders and ordinarily he would tease him, but he's just so happy to see him and sad to be stuck in the middle that he doesn't go there.

“Hey,” he smiles tiredly instead, “I miss you.”

He doesn't mean to blurt it out quite so plainly and for it to be the first thing he says, but he half shrugs when Danny raises a surprised eyebrow. Ryan watches him run a hand over his head and down his face, his natural wavy hair bouncing back into place and he must look especially longing or in such a pitiful state that he sees Danny's expression soften. “Did Daisy get the box?” he asks, fidgeting with the strings on his hoodie.

Ryan's mouth tilts, amused. “Several, actually. What're you doing buying her _three_ pairs of Louboutins?”

“I wanted to say sorry!” he protests, his nerves still visible on-screen as he lowers his voice shyly, “And I couldn't decide which ones she'd like best.”

“Well, I know which ones I liked,”

“For you? Mate, your feet won't fit in those,”

Ryan rolls his eyes, “Hilarious.”

“Alright, go on then - which ones did it for you?”

“You make it sound like I have a fetish,” he says, steadfastly ignoring the memory of telling Daisy she could walk all over him and not entirely certain he was completely joking. He clears his throat, hoping he's not blushing. “The tall suede ones were nice.”

“Oh yeah,” Danny murmurs, sitting back into his sofa to get in a more comfortable position. Ryan swallows hard, eyes fixed to how he spreads his knees to accommodate still being able to see the screen clearly from slightly further away. “Simple, classy, y'know? Christ, I can't believe I'm talking to ya about _shoes_ ,”

“Well, it's more about who's wearing them, right?”

“Good point.”

Ryan sees Danny's hand drift low on his torso and can only think of one thing. “Are you hard?”

“Over shoes? Piss off!” he snaps. Ryan opens his mouth to say more, to change the subject, when Danny sighs noisily and shifts in his seat, his hips lifting briefly. “God, I miss you both. I could be hard. For you,”

“Do you wanna - ” Ryan hesitantly cups himself over his sweatpants with his left hand.

“ - Fuck yes,” he gasps.

It's difficult to get into at first because they can only see each other through a screen and they've never really done anything quite this blatant before that wasn't in person. Ryan feels his face grow hot from all the things they have done as he stares at Danny opening his jeans. He leans forward to try and get a better look at his face but his hand throbs and pulls him back to reality, reminding him of his limitations. With a conscious effort to relax his splint on the cushions, Ryan slides his left hand underneath the waistband of his sweatpants and touches skin. After his shower around midday with Daisy's “help”, he hadn't bothered to put boxers on again, grabbing the comfiest, laziest item instead. He's grateful for it now as he curls his hand around his thickening cock and follows Danny's wordless lead. 

There's a minute where they say nothing and just feel, with only the rustle of clothing and slight hint of heavier breathing coming down their connection. Ryan finds his eyes wandering, greedily trying to take more of Danny in the more turned on he gets until he glances at the window and can still see outside. It's winter-dark now with a few white streetlights and orange house lights winking at him from across the road.

“Shit, I forgot to close the curtains,” he breathes then wants to laugh because it sounds so domestic compared with him touching himself to the image of his boyfriend also masturbating.

“That risk of being seen,” Danny stops stroking his cock long enough to grin.

Ryan knows nobody can actually see him from the bed but the illicit thrill of being watched still runs right down his spine and makes his bare toes curl because that's what Danny is doing now, it's what they're both doing. As he starts moving his non-dominant left hand properly with growing confidence and matches Danny's slick pace, the rest of his senses become heightened. Suddenly, he's aware of his heartbeat thudding in his chest, his breathing and the urge to seek pleasure in other places on his own body. He grits his teeth and feels the cool cotton of his plumped pillowcases on the nape of his neck as he briefly leans his head back, baring his throat, because he knows his hurt hand is rendered useless, out of action and he has to decide what he wants more. With some reluctance, he makes a choice to try it and watches sweat shine on Danny's forehead as he shoves his clothes down his thighs, exposing more of his body for Ryan's perusal. Ryan lets go of his cock and his whole body screams just before he pinches his nipple as hard as he dares. The electric shock of pain drives his hips upwards and he groans, hearing Danny answer him in kind then encourage with soft, gruff words, but the noise has Ryan wondering whether Daisy heard him, them, so he doesn't do it again. She's downstairs leaving him alone to rest and if he strains enough he can hear the distant murmur of the television. Nothing shuts off, so he feels safe and slides his fingers over the head of his dick. They come away sticky with pre-come.

“Wish I could feel ya,” Danny whines, bringing Ryan's pin-sharp focus back to him. “Your hands – mouth – taste ya - oh _god_ , I'mma come - ”

Ryan's hard as anything but nowhere near that point. “Are you watching?” he asks, not really sure what he's going to do that'll make Danny tip over the edge.

“Of course I'm fuckin' watching! That's the idea!” he splutters, almost laughing. Ryan clutches at his thigh, leaves an wet imprint on the grey marl then puts his hand over his mouth. Danny breathes in sharply as Ryan catches his own scent on his skin, although his mind is filled with memories of Danny and Daisy combined. He tucks the tips of his fingers over his lower lip and his hips buck once more at the taste of himself, eyes squeezing shut. “Ryan – oh _fuck_ \- “

The bedroom door suddenly swings open.

“Darling, are you still – wow, okay!” Daisy blinks at him stretched out on their bed with his cock out and his fingers in his mouth. He hadn't heard her footsteps on the stairs as a warning at all.

Without thinking, Ryan kicks the laptop down the bed instead of shutting the lid. Danny's still on-screen looking just as caught red-handed, holding his cock motionless in the confusion. He shifts on the seat, struggling with the delay to his situation. Ryan slides his gaze back to Daisy and licks his lips as a nervous reflex. He sees how they both track the movement, making him feel shy. “I can explain.”

Daisy tilts her head, not believing he can. “I wanted to remind you to do your hand exercises before dinner, which will be ready soon.”

“Thanks,” he says after a lengthy, embarrassed pause. Suddenly, he's embarrassed on top of embarrassment because she's his wife. She knows him and he shouldn't feel like that because he knows Danny, they know each other and the same goes for Danny and Daisy. That realisation means an idea starts percolating.

Daisy glances again at Danny who brazenly stares back. She puts her hand on the door, closing it behind her as she points at Ryan. “Hand exercises. From the physio. Okay?”

The click of the door and her footsteps fading makes him breathe out and Danny starts to laugh. “Mate! You got caught wanking by your wife!”

Ryan wants to point out that technically he wasn't, but having his fingers in his mouth whilst Danny goes at it probably looked a lot kinkier from the outside looking in. As he thinks that, he's reminded of the curtains again and thinks he should probably wrap things up with Danny. He does have his exercises to do and dinner to eat. “Hey, I should go.”

“But what about me?” he frowns.

Ryan looks down at his lap and hurriedly tucks himself back in to his sweatpants. The mood has almost past for him now. “Knock yourself out,” he shrugs, “or should that be knock _one_ out?”

“Ha bloody ha,” Danny bites back. He's never normally this grumpy when delayed on the brink, but then it's not really his style. Ryan sinks his teeth into his lip. It's definitely more his thing. “Can't I just come over? I can apologise and grovel at Dais' feet face to face and we can make a night of it.”

“Sorry, you're better off...well, finishing off now. Think of me,” he jokes, trying to cheer him up.

Danny's mouth twitches and Ryan feels warm settle in his belly at the telling idea that Danny does think of him when he's having some 'alone time'. “As if! Jurgen all the way now,”

“Your dedication to Liverpool is starting to worry me.” He sees Danny smile and responds helplessly with one of his own. “Hey, you should come for dinner another night though. Say, Friday?”

Danny accepts before they mutually end the call (Danny no doubt going off to get off) and Ryan tries so hard not to race through his exercises because he doesn't want to set himself back in his recovery by being hasty and he also wants to please his worried wife. They eat through dinner until the weird tension that they never have around each other is too much and Daisy giggles, drunk on the power of interrupting her husband and his man's attempt at some sort of Skype sex. It's close but he doesn't retort that they wouldn't have to if she wasn't letting fear of losing Ryan and being stubborn get in the way.

The irony is it can wait.

\---

Friday means another week has passed since Ryan's injury and along comes with it a few more things he can do again with his splint as his protection. Namely picking Tommy and Lola up, one under each arm. It comes in handy when the doorbell rings and Ryan uses them as an excuse to nod to Daisy to answer it for him. She gives him a suspicious look as he stands on the staircase with the dogs and watches her move towards the door. Her curves look great in the knee length, black dress that cuts across her chest and leaves her shoulders bare paired with the suede Louboutins she hasn't had a chance to send back to Danny yet. So what if Ryan's distracted her every time she's gone near the big box. Ryan's made an effort with his white shirt and navy trousers and keeping the dining room setup from Daisy's prying eyes has been hard, but he hopes it'll all come good and be appreciated in the end.

He also appreciates Daisy opening the door to Danny standing on the other side of it. He looks ready to drop to her feet right there on the threshold and actually glances down. Ryan couldn't have played this better when he sees how Danny's eyes sparkle. “I'm so glad you like 'em,”

“What're you doing here?” she asks, ignoring him and bringing him and Ryan up short in their little reunion fantasy. “I told you we'd call you - ”

She tries to shut the door, but Danny puts his foot there to stop her just as Ryan joins them in the battle of wills. “Dais, please - ”

“Baby, come on,” Ryan says softly, leaning into her, “This is ridiculous. I'm fine. Look, I can even hold one dog each, just like old times.” He tests the weight of Tommy and Lola in his hands like they're scales and sees Daisy sigh, begrudgingly fond and hopefully begrudgingly open to the rest of the evening he has planned. “Let him in.”

She and Ryan steps aside to let Danny through. Ryan knows he scrubs up well too and gives himself a second to enjoy having the two most gorgeous, nicest people he knows back in the same room again before Daisy kisses Lola's head and goes to walk past him into the dining room. He intercepts her and Danny beside her before she can get very far.

“Nice try, but I've got something to ask you both first.” He focuses on Daisy properly. “Will you listen to what Danny's got to say tonight and cut him some slack?” She folds her arms, pushing her cleavage up a little, and Ryan silently mourns the fact that he's not going to be able to enjoy it for much longer as he forces his gaze towards Danny. “Will you understand that Daisy got scared of everything changing, of _us_ changing because of what happened and no amount of shoes will bribe her not to feel like that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Danny says easily, turning to Daisy, “You know I care about ya, the shoes were just - “

Barely suppressing his smile, Ryan interrupts. “Okay, come with me.” He shows them to the dining table where Daisy had Danny's generous gift(s) and where, with any luck, Ryan's gesture will be as positively received. Eventually.

They look at the table set out in all its romantic finery before it clicks. “This is for two,” Daisy says first.

Ryan sees Danny look worried, like he's intruding on a date night meant for husband and wife. “Correct.” he grins, taking a breath in for the pièce de résistance. “For you two. So you can bloody talk and sort this out without me around,”

“Darling, this isn't necessary!” she says airily, trying to laugh it off.

He doesn't rise to the bait, falling into seriousness. “See, I think it is. I love you both and I know you feel the same about me and each other. I want it sorted. Tonight.” He bends to kiss them both on the cheek, Daisy reaching out to touch the dogs' ears. “Eat, drink, talk. Have some fun and come find me when you've made up.”

“And where are you going?” Danny raises an eyebrow.

Ryan turns at the foot of the stairs. “Just upstairs. Keeping these two out of the way an' all.” He tickles Tommy and Lola awkwardly under their bellies then forces himself to start heading to his and Daisy's bedroom. “Enjoy.”

Once Ryan closes the door behind the three of them and he puts the dogs down on the bed, he reaches for the TV remote and reclines on there with them. He turns the volume up so he's not tempted to leave them and try to eavesdrop on the conversation – fingers crossed – going on downstairs. He hopes with everything that he has that his scheming will work. Maybe Robert Sugden would be proud.

One and a quarter episodes of _The Cube_ rerun later and with the dogs already fast asleep against both his thighs, he hears a timid knock. Ryan's heart sings that it doesn't sound like they've killed each other or really done any verbal fighting at all and he's even more pleased when they sheepishly slink into the room one after the other. Stretching his role to the max because he's a committed actor, he gives them his best wary face.

Danny rolls his eyes. “No more arguing,” he promises.

“No more silent treatment?”

Daisy shakes her head and smiles, bumping her hip to Danny's. “We've kissed and made up properly.”

“Have you?”

“You don't believe me?”

“No, I mean – have you actually _kissed_ and made up?”

“Oh yeah, several times.” Danny smirks, watching Daisy smooth her thumb over her smudged lipstick.

“Go on then, let's see it,” Ryan tells them, leaning back on Daisy's array of pillows and cushions.

His wife stares at him, calculating, trying to work him out until she grabs Danny by the back of his neck and pulls him down to kiss him. Ryan loves when she does that to him, but also being able to see how Danny responds to her mouth is just as lovely and exciting as it ever was. She doesn't hold back either and Danny melts into it, tentative hands settled on her waist as hers slide up into his fluffy hair. She tugs and they both separate, breathing hard. Ryan feels his own lips tingle in a phantom kiss and he shuffles to the edge of the bed, satisfied that this thing has finally been resolved. He scoops up a sleepy Tommy and Lola to take them downstairs to their own beds and steps between the other two on the way past.

“When I come back, you're gonna make it up to me,” he tells them in a whisper.

Neither Daisy nor Danny argue with him and he returns quickly to their bedroom, praying that his hand doesn't interfere in any way. He made sure to do his exercises before Danny arrived, so it's a little sore and overworked, so he simply raises an eyebrow at Danny's going out jeans, indicating for him to drop trou himself. Truth be told, Ryan put these trousers on because they were easy and he's none more thankful for that when Daisy comes towards him and pulls down the zip. He nudges his nose against hers.

“You too.” he says then nods at Danny, “Help her.” In his boxers and green checked shirt with the top few buttons already undone, Danny stands behind Daisy to unzip her dress. She clings to Ryan's good forearm and raises her foot with the intention of kicking her shoes off. “No!” he exclaims, then immediately quietens at her knowing glance, “Wait. Keep them on.”

He ignores Danny's gleeful smirk and lets Daisy nudge their mouths together briefly, stepping back into Danny's chest as she gets her arms free and wiggles the dress over her hips. Ryan's tempted to ask her to fully strip away her underwear, but never gets the chance to before she's working on removing his shirt and leading him towards the bed. Once the three of them are there, he reaches for Danny with his left hand to kiss him because he feels like it's been too damn long and revels in the touch and the taste of him as he kneels by Ryan's side and Daisy has her fingers wedged into both his trousers and his pants to take them off in one go. Ryan lifts his hips to help then again, needy, when Danny touches his cock. He groans when he feels another pair of hands skim along the underside and turns his face to catch lips with his wife as she straddles his thigh. All their attention is on him, even when their hands pass over each other on his skin and he sinks into the pillows, pressing Daisy closer with his good hand splayed on her lower back. She kisses his neck, moving the collar of his shirt that's still half on out of the way, whilst Danny makes a proper fist around the swell between his legs. He's hit with a memory of watching him through a screen and is suddenly desperate for more, to have it all at once, but he can't grab him because he's being careful on his injured side. Ryan clutches at Daisy's knee instead and almost has her foot in reach. She flexes her leg, bites gently at his earlobe and rubs her palm over his chest, his nipple. To his right, Danny quickly licks his hand and the slide that returns to his cock is perfect, making him arch into his grip.

“Later,” Daisy promises, brushing the side of her shoe against his shin. The fine, blonde hairs on his legs stand up and his stomach swoops, wanting to urgently know what she means by that but also aroused at the ambiguity.

“Swap sides,” he tells them after a few minutes of the heavy petting that's dizzyingly good. He chucks Daisy under the chin affectionately. “He deserves it after what you did, interrupting us like that.”

She knows he's joking so moves without a fuss, peppering his throat with soft, slow, sucking kisses as Danny resumes touching him. Now Ryan can reciprocate and he kisses along his scruffy jaw too. “S'not like I didn't come at all,” he reasons, grinning.

“Not with me,” Ryan says, feeling something fierce solidify in his chest as they both take care with and of him.

He squeezes at Danny's cock and twists his grip to show that he still has a hand performing well and breathes faster when Daisy starts a leisurely descent down the length of his body. He almost loses it too eagerly when her hair gently caresses his lap until Danny distracts him effectively by occupying his mouth. Ryan wants to come, but he'll hold out and hold on to his lovers if it means he gets to have this bliss for a little while longer.

In fact, once they put their minds to it, his wife and his boyfriend make an excellent team.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovelies x
> 
> I'm on tumblr at [theprincessed](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com). Come chat to me. :)


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